


Jehan Takes A Bath

by french_crap



Series: Starless Sky [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Other, and a tiny problem is being solved, bath bombs, courfeyrac is an empath, happiness, jehan loves plants, winter depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 12:16:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3895969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/french_crap/pseuds/french_crap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jehan (they/them) is being Jehan and Courfeyrac is a little too sensitive.</p><p>Written for my friend, Molly.</p><p>-----------------------------------------</p><p>“I need to take a bath, Frouc.“</p><p>“But surely not the whole night?!“</p><p>“I need to take that bath, Frouc.“, Jehan repeated. </p><p>Courfeyrac hung up. What was the point in arguing over meeting someone, when the other person clearly didn’t want to see him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jehan Takes A Bath

Being around Jehan was as if everything made sense. The merest bat with their eyelashes, the simplest smile from the corner of their lips, the quietest gasp could align the stars in the universe in a way that Courfeyrac had never even dared dreaming of before. Jehan wasn’t normal, not in the conventional, not in the society-directed way, not at all, but everything they did just made sense.

Jehan sleeping under the bed because the animals they had adopted had taken over the bed? Perfectly understandable. Jehan waking up at three in the morning to take a walk, following the sound of their heart? Absolutely normal. Jehan coming to the ABC meeting one evening with painted flowers all over their tiny body? Why wouldn’t that make sense?

It all made sense.

And Courfeyrac wanted to make sense, too.

He had always tried to be normal, tried to make everyone happy, tried to be there for all his friends. The fact that he was so empathic that Jehan called him an Empath sometimes, drained him a lot some days. He strove for harmony, he strove for happiness, he needed all the people around him to be happy, or he could himself not smile.

But being around Jehan was so easy. It was as if Jehan was absorbing all the positive energy of everyone they encountered and as if spending time with them was like being near a small, warm sun, refilling Courfeyrac’s veins with love, hope and trust in humanity.

Thus the pain he felt the day of the first of February, 2015, when Jehan declined his invitation to watch Harold and Maude and eat BN cookies, both, usually Jehan’s favourite activities.

“What do you mean you’ve got no time?“, he pouted into the phone.

“I need to take a bath, Frouc.“

“But surely not the whole night?!“

“I need to take that bath, Frouc.“, Jehan repeated, calmly, some weird clinking sounds happening on the other side of the line. „It will take at least five hours. And I need to wash my hair, which might prolong the procedure for another two turns of my sand hour.“

Courfeyrac hung up. What was the point in arguing over meeting someone, when the other person clearly didn’t want to see him?

For the next few days he tried to shrug it off and go on with his life as if the rejection had never happened … but that was harder than he thought. What if he had done something to insult Jehan? What if he had not noticed that something was wrong, had neglected them and hurt them? What if they had told him that a family member, or worse, one of their cats had died and he had not been listening? What if he had misgendered them?! The worse scenarios kept him from sleeping the next few days, and even in his more peaceful moments, his heart beat in a cramped, tensed way. And nothing got better when Jehan avoided all his calls and messages. By the end of the week, he was sure that Jehan hated him.

The cold winter days took toll on most of his friends, and the next meeting was overshadowed by a negative cloud of depression and anxiety. Even Enjolras seemed weary of the sunless weather and although the way he lead the meeting was still very moving, thrilling and stirring, his eyes seemed to fade behind their blue iris. Courfeyrac, giving his best to cheer everyone up and exchanging his happy energy with their sad ones, soon felt exhausted, and he wanted to go home and sleep the negativity away. His eyes darted more than once to the door of the Corinth, but no Jehan in sight. Oh how he could need a warm hug from his most beloved flower right now…

It was only a weekend later when Courfeyrac saw them again. He had decided to give a party for Les Amis, just a cozy little apartment hang-out to tell everyone that the sun was soon going to return, and that they all just needed to hang in there for a few more weeks. Jehan was one of the earlier guests, floating through the door with a giant bouquet of pot plants they then started putting around all over Courfeyrac’s apartment. Courf watched them doing that with a little smile. Their orange hair seemed to glow in the dark and the sun flowers on their sweater brought vibrating colours into the place. He would and could have watched them all night but was soon distracted by the other friends joining the party. He was loud and made many jokes, hugged many people, laughed from the top of his lungs, buzzed from the kitchen to the music station, from friend to friend and entertained as many people as he could.

You see, Courfeyrac loved his friends, he loved being around them, he loved being the glue of the group, he loved making them happy. But after a while he just needed a moment to relax, alone and away from all those people. So he looked around to find a quiet place or … Jehan.

But both was not to be found.

It was only now that he noticed that the last time he’d seen Jehan was when they had lovingly caressed one of pot plants they had brought with them … They had disappeared ever since. That was nearly two hours ago!

Courfeyrac sighed. His mind was still trying to find what he possibly could have done wrong. And he wanted Jehan to give him a chance to apologise. He’d never meant to hurt his little stardust fairy, after all…

“You look pale.” Combeferre said calmly, nudging his glasses up his nose using his middlefinger.

“I’m just tired!” Courfeyrac laughed, and he was, as always, surprised how sincere it sounded. He got up from the couch and scuffled to the bathroom. The poor man looking back at him in the mirror did really look pale. His usual dark, golden natural tan looked like plastic that had been washed out over the course of many rainfalls. There were dark circles under his eyes and even his black curls seemed to hang down his head sadly. With slow motions he washed his face with cold water and then looked up at himself again. Nothing had changed. “I still look horrible.” he mumbled, turning to grab a towel.

“I think you look very cute.” Courfeyrac startled and jumped around. Two big, beady hazelnut brown eyes looked back at him, their corners wrinkling for a smile.

“Shit!” he gasped, leaning back against the sink, a hand on his heart, and panting heavily to come down from the startle. Jehan kept looking at him with a smile on their pale rosebud lips, sitting in a pink-watered bathtub, their poetry notebook and a feather quill in their hands. Their hair was tied up to a bun, but single locks had freed themselves and framed their face. After a moment, in which Courfeyrac simply didn’t know how to react, they quietly put the writing things on the chair (on which also stood a tiny cactus) next to the bath tub and sat up. Their knees disappeared in the water as they leaned on the border of the tub, crossing their arms and resting their chin on it. They locked their gaze with Courfeyrac’s … and they didn’t seem mad?

“Did I scare you?” they asked in their melodic voice that always sounded more like someone singing than actually talking.

“Surprised, maybe.” Courfeyrac admitted. “What the hell are you doing in my bathtub?!”

“I told you, I needed to take a bath, Frouc.”

“Yeah, but that was days ago!” And he really didn’t think Jehan had been honest… “You cannot tell me you’ll take a bath and then expect me to know you’ll come to my party and disappear in the bathroom for-…” For hours! Had they been here all the time?! Was that were they had disappeared to? Not actually away to someone they preferred over Courfeyrac? “… for that much time.” he finished his sentence, much quieter now.

“You missed me.” Jehan smiled. It wasn’t a question. Jehan didn’t need to ask questions like that. Jehan just knew.

“I did… I thought you were mad at me.”

Jehan chuckled and pointed at their Ramona Flowers handbag. “Can you pass that to me, please?” Slowly, Courfeyrac picked it up and walked over to Jehan, handing them the bag. As he crouched down next to the tub, they opened it and held it open for him. Looking inside he appeared at least fifteen bath bombs of all colours piled up on top of each other. He looked at his ginger sunflower. “What..?”

“But can’t you remember?” Jehan chuckled. Chills ran down Courfeyrac’s spine. Why was their chuckle so beautiful? “You gave me a Lush gift coupon for Christmas? And told me to try as much as I can before my birthday? So I could tell you what makes me the happiest? So you could get me the right present?”

Courfeyrac turned his head and looked at Jehan, his moonlight, with disbelief in his eyes. “I…” That was the reason for Jehan’s absence? They had spent all those days in baths to only answer to a stupid joke Courfeyrac had written on his Christmas present weeks ago? They … weren’t actually mad? He let out a long, deep sigh, stood up, undressed himself and got into the bath, all without another word. Jehan kept their eyes on him the entire time, only closed them when Courfeyrac carefully took them by the waist, turned then around and pulled them between his legs to let them lean against him, Jehan’s back against Courfeyrac’s chest. The chest that held a heart, which was beating with so much relief and so much happiness now that it felt as if it was going to break free any second. “I’m so stupid.” he chuckled, resting his forehead on Jehan’s shoulder. Jehan leaned into him, folding their arms over Courf’s he had around their middle.

“I doubt that. And George says you’re not stupid either.”

Courfeyrac lift his head and looked at Jehan’s beautiful features from the side. “George?”

They lift their hand out of the water and pointed at the cactus. Courfeyrac instantly stifled his reaction by biting the inside of his cheek, keeping his face straight, until it was not feasible anymore and a loud laugh slipped. Of course! Of course Jehan meant the pot plant. Of course Jehan had not been mad at him, of course this was just a stupid overreaction from his side, of course everything was fine. It was Jehan after all! It all made sense. Of course it did, why wouldn’t it?

Jehan chimed into his laughter, maybe even without knowing why Courfeyrac was laughing. But that didn’t matter. Their laugh was beautiful, and it made sense, and that was all that mattered.


End file.
